


Ask Me

by VioletViola



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:01:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletViola/pseuds/VioletViola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick sketch - a little sweet and awkward exchange between Arthur and Merlin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask Me

A bloody glorified dinner party, that’s all it was. The great and good of Camelot had descended on the castle at the mere whiff of free food and all the personal servants had been drafted in to help old Sadler and the kitchen staff. Arthur had, of course, complained that Merlin was incapable of taking care of one person, let alone several, but no one had listened. 

The cooks considered Merlin a useless waste of food so thankfully Merlin found himself waiting at table – he wasn’t sure he could have borne the heat of the kitchens and at least waiting at table meant he could keep an eye on Arthur. Make sure nothing crawled out of the stonework and tried to kill him.

The evening had dragged on and on. The King and the court had eaten more than usual, and drunk more than usual. The fires had filled the room with a cloying heat, and the raucous voices of the guests had grated and grated and grated... He would have welcomed the stonework crawling death monsters. He considered making a few himself just to get the evening over with.

But instead he stood throughout it all, stoical, listening to them talk about sorcery and the old ways, spreading every lie and corrupting every story and every myth. How they could get everything so wrong was totally beyond him. He knew some of these people - they were the same people who played with their children, petted dogs, fed stray cats and cared for their own. And here they were calling for the death of some other people, some other families, based on nothing more than ill-formed rumours and a King’s anger.

Still, he waited on them, poured their wine and smiled at their bad jokes. 

Arthur wasn’t drinking much and he seemed subdued. Merlin hoped it was because the conversation was not to his taste – that would at least be step in the right direction. He caught Arthur looking at him a few times but tried not to look back. It wouldn’t do to be seen looking, and sometimes looking was a little to painful.

Hour after endless hour passed. The guests trickled away slowly until just the King and few old duffers were left. Arthur made his excuses and caught Merlin’s eye, gesturing to the door. Merlin looked to Sadler, who nodded – finally he could leave. Not that his work was done of course. Arthur had to be gotten to bed. You had to be great and powerful indeed, to be put to bed like a sleepy toddler. 

He followed close after Arthur and allowed himself to watch his broad back as he went along corridors and up stairs ahead of him. Torture... but enjoyable torture.

\----------

Arthur’s chamber was mercifully cool and dark with only the dim light from a brazier to take the edge off. The Prince strode over to a heavy chair and threw himself into it, head flung back. He groaned theatrically and let his arms hang down the sides of the chair. 

Merlin hid his smile as he closed the door and crossed the room after him. He stood for a moment and guiltily allowed himself to look down at Arthur, enjoying the sight of his stocky body draped over the chair, eyes closed, lips slightly apart. He had crooked teeth that made his smile somehow even more endearing. Merlin loved his crooked teeth and his crooked smile. Sweet, adorable torture.

With a sigh Merlin dropped to his knees in front of the Prince and began to unbuckle those ridiculous boots. Arthur groaned and stretched his leg out to allow Merlin to pull the first boot off. He flung it away and pulled the Prince’s other leg out.

“Careful with those boots Merlin.” Arthur muttered without lifting his head or opening his eyes.

Merlin rolled his eyes and unbuckled the other boot, pulling it off and flinging it after the first. The Prince smiled but did not say anything. Merlin sat back on his heels and looked up at him. The stiff uncomfortable collar was digging into the Prince’s neck. Without really thinking, Merlin leaned forwards and reached out to unbutton the jacket. He frowned in concentration as he moved down the buttons - they were very stiff and surrounded by a sea of embroidery, so he was careful not to break any of the silver threads. Arthur always kicked up an almighty fuss if he broke any of the threads. And he would threaten to take any embroiderer’s fees out of Merlin’s wages, mean little bastard that he was. Not that he ever actually deducted anything. He usually forgot.

Under the jacket the Prince had on a very fine shirt with some of the most detailed blackwork embroidery Merlin had ever seen. He rubbed the thin linen between his fingers, wondering how many months wages that one shirt would cost him, and how his mother would have loved the little peacock design.

He glanced up at the Prince and found himself looking straight into those marvellous blue eyes, now wide with surprise. His fingers froze and he suddenly became aware of his position – kneeling between the Prince’s legs, stretched out across his body and with his fingers twined in his shirt.

Merlin felt a surge of embarrassment, but he knew if he pulled away now, the Prince would realise that he had noticed the nature of his position. _Innocent, everything is innocent. Nothing at all could be anything but innocent about this..._

Merlin sat back on his heels. He smiled tightly and, he was sure, unconvincingly. “My mother embroiders,” he said, “she used to make shirts for the Carmardons and their household. She did the finest blackwork for miles around, but I have never seen anything so fine as this.”

It was quite possibly the most completely idiotic thing he had ever said, but he continued to unbutton the jacket, quite as if he was an innocent who had never even thought of... anything.  
The Prince kept staring at him, face carefully expressionless as Merlin fumbled the rest of the buttons open, snapping silver threads everywhere. How many damn buttons could there be on one jacket?

With the jacket finally undone, he reached for the Prince’s hand in a businesslike manner and began to pull the fine kid glove off. Oh shit shit shit, he thought, I’ll just take off the gloves and then stand up, and the Prince will stand up. Then I take off his jacket and make an excuse to go get hot water. He could feel his cheeks burning. Why did the Prince keep looking at him?

Arthur pulled his hand out of the glove and Merlin tossed it onto the table. He reached for the other hand but the Prince suddenly leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, and frowned straight into Merlin’s face.

Merlin leaned right back and looked away into the corner of the room, not daring to make eye contact. He did not want to know how Arthur looked at him, or see the expression on that handsome face. Disgust or lust – both would be equally bad.

The Prince reached out with his gloved hand and hesitantly brushed his fingers down Merlin’s burning cheek. In his confusion and embarrassment, Merlin grabbed the hand and yanked the glove off, hearing the stitches tear. He scrambled back and up, clutching the glove to his chest like a maiden aunt.

“I’ll just go order the water for your bath Sir. Your Majesty.” He sketched a quick bow and turned to flee the room.

“I don’t need any water Merlin,” the Prince said, in a tired voice. He was still in the chair, leaning forward with his head buried in his hands.

“Wine? Some food? I’ll just go...” he motioned towards the door again.

“Do you... like me Merlin?” The Prince’s voice came out flat and expressionless, his face still hidden in his hands.

Merlin twisted the glove and stared down at him, mind racing. That was an incredibly loaded question. The Prince was his superior and his master and the answer he gave now would probably define the rest of his career.

“You are a great man, Your Majesty,” he mumbled, “the people love you, the servants love you.”

Arthur laughed softly and looked up at him from under his long lashes. “Very politic, Merlin, but not what I asked.”

“Of course I like you. Everyone likes you,” Merlin said, hating the note of desperation in his own voice.

“Why?”

Merlin floundered and he answered without thinking. Never a good idea. “Why is it so important to you?” he said quietly, “is it not enough that you are brave, and kind, and well born, and rich. Why does it matter why I like you?”

“Do you think I am... handsome?”the Prince asked, very carefully, not taking his eyes off Merlin’s face.

“Do you think I am handsome?” Merlin retorted, with the tiniest flash of temper.

The Prince smiled again but his eyes seemed sad. “As a matter of fact, I do. I think you are very handsome.”

Merlin snorted in annoyance. “You’ll not get round me like that, Sir. I know perfectly well I’m not handsome,” he said, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. He knew it was probably career suicide to speak to the Prince like this but it was too late to stop. 

“ I’m going to speak plainly...”

“... if it’s not too much trouble...” Merlin muttered. 

It was Arthur’s turn to look irritated, but he pushed on “...sometimes I see you looking at me, and it makes me think that... maybe...” he trailed off, looking expectantly at Merlin, as if he wanted Merlin to take away the burden of having to actually ask the question that hung so heavily in the air between them.

“So much for speaking plainly,” Merlin said under his breath, but that wasn’t what he wanted to say. Why was this going so wrong? Wasn’t this what he had dreamt of happening for months now? In all the fantasies he’d had, where the Prince suddenly realised Merlin was the man for him, Arthur would say something amazing and heartfelt and Merlin would melt into his arms. Instead, the Prince was muddling his words and making a mess of it, and all Merlin felt was horror and embarrassment, and nobody would be melting into anybody’s arms any time soon.

“Listen Merlin! Listen to me!” the Prince hissed, “Do you know what I am asking you? What I’m trying to say?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, it’s perfectly obvious what you are trying to say”, he said. He hadn’t meant his voice to sound so bitter but disappointment burned in his throat, and he had a sneaky suspicion he was about to cry. He wanted to run from the room and never have to look at the Prince again. He wanted to stay, he wanted to drop to his knees in front of Arthur and kiss him on the mouth, like he had never dared to do with anyone before. He wanted to put his arms around him and whisper “I understand, I understand” into his ear. He felt all twisted up inside, like he was being torn apart. 

There was a long silence, the longest silence that there had ever been in the entire history of the world, as far as Merlin was concerned. But he would not speak and let Arthur get out of this easily.

Eventually Arthur stood up and hunched his shoulders. He looked resigned, as if this was what he had expected to happen. He rubbed his hands over his face and shook his hair out and scraped his fingers over his scalp, the way he sometimes did when he was tired. He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it onto the floor, turning away from Merlin. How dare he look so fucking sad and vulnerable when he was the one who’d just torn up and ruined everything?

“I’m sorry I misread everything,” he said softly. “You can go, of course, and I understand if you no longer wish to serve me. All I ask is that you don’t speak to anyone about this. I can... I can arrange for a... payment, a new position. Anything. Please accept my apologies.” He did not turn back to face Merlin.

And now he was being bought off. Merlin took a deep shaky breath and cursed his stupid defensive anger. If only he’d kept his fool mouth shut. He leaned back against the door, one hand tight around the handle, one spread out on the smooth, cool wood. He dropped his head back and blinked, trying to clear the stinging tears. With a sigh he reached down and turned the key in the lock. Arthur’s back stiffened but he did not turn.

“Please, Arthur, this has all done terribly wrong. Just ask me to stay,” he said. “I want you to tell me you... want me, and make me believe it. And then I will stay.” Every word felt dragged from him.

Arthur turned and smiled. He strode across the room and stopped so close to Merlin he could feel the heat from his body. Arthur leaned forward hesitantly and brushed his lips chastely against Merlin’s forehead.

“I want you to stay tonight with me Merlin,” he said, very seriously. He ran his fingertips lightly down Merlin’s cheek, and trailed them along his jaw and finally, hesitantly across his tingling lips. “I have wanted to ask for so long, but I was afraid I was wrong. I was afraid that you did not want me, or that you would stay but only because I am the Prince. I had to be sure you were not doing it out of a sense of duty.” 

Merlin smiled and kissed the very tips of the Prince’s fingers. “That’s more like it,” he said, and Arthur laughed. “And since when have I ever displayed any sign of having a ‘sense of duty’?”

“Are you sure this is what you want?” 

Merlin nodded quickly, swallowing the feeling that he was making a horrible mistake.

Arthur leaned in again, and this time he kissed him properly. Merlin did not have anything to compare it to, but he thought it was possibly the best kiss that anyone had ever had, in all the history of the world.


End file.
